Taken
by Empress-Eerian-Sadow
Summary: when a prominent SeeD is killed at Garden, everyone must learn how to deal with their grief, just in time for more trials. WARNING: MAIN CHARACTER DEATH!
1. Chapter 1

WARNING: MAIN CHARACTER DEATH RIGHT OFF THE BAT! if this is a problem, go away now. no amout of complaining or flaming will be able to convince me to bring her back.

A/N: i know. another new fic. it happens. the customer service desk at work is still doing wierd stuff to me. and apparantly making me kind of dark an morbid too. this fic is going to be slow in coming out tho, cause i have to be in a certain mood to work on it. sorry if this bothers anyone--that's just how it is.

eerian

THE ONLY DISCLAIMER I'M PUTTING UP FOR THE ENTIRE FICTION: i've gotten tired of finding creative ways to say i don't own square-enix's stuff, so i'm only going to put this up once for the whole story. 

I do not own Final Fantasy VII, any of the characters from that game. I do, however love them and felt the need to use them in this story that I am making no money from. It is strictly for my own amusement and the amusement of others via do own this story however. Do not copy or plagiarize my work or re-post it without my permission.

* * *

Something warm and wet drips from the tip of his nose. He knows that it is his blood, but he cannot acknowledge it in the face of what is covering his chest.

_Her blood. Poured from her broken body as she died in his arms._

_He is so broken he cannot even cry, though that will come later. All he can do is whisper her name like a prayer. Like it will bring her back if he says it enough._

"_Selphie…"_

* * *

It had been a freak accident that while they were servicing the Ragnarok that did it. A simple tune-up—something they'd done dozens of times together, before. While they were servicing the cockpit console, it exploded in their faces.

Irvine took a piece of shrapnel in the forehead. Selphie looked like she'd taken the whole damned console to the chest and stomach.

He had no memory of carrying her off the airship, but he must have. He'd been holding her, cradled to his chest, a few feet outside the infirmary when her heart stopped.

It had been his screaming that had brought Dr. Kadowaki into the hallway. The doctor had worked on the girl for hours, trying to piece enough of her body back together that a life spell would take. He'd been sitting in her office, head down, blood dripping from his forehead onto the floor when she came back in.

"I'm sorry, Irvine," Dr, Kadowaki told him. "I've tried everything I know. The damage was just too extensive to be repaired."

"I know," he said. And somehow, he had. He'd known when her heart stopped that Selphie was gone. "But you had to try."

"If there's anything I can do…" she offered.

"There's not. But thanks just the same." The words came out of Irvine's mouth mechanically, which was good; he couldn't have strung two words together otherwise.

Numbly, he left the infirmary. He didn't hear the doctor calling him to come back, didn't see the Garden in front of him.

All he could see or hear now was the explosion that had taken his Selphie from him.

Quistis found him hours later in the Secret Area of the Training Center. He was huddled in a corner, face and clothes caked with dried blood, holding a small gold ring. His tears had left very clear tracks through the blood on his face, making him look like some kind of macabre harlequin.

"Irvine?"

He didn't look up from the ring as he replied. "I was gonna propose to her today, Quisty."

She covered her mouth with one hand to hold back her own sob at his words. Tears welled up in her eyes. She'd known the two were close, and this added pain was making her heart break.

"I wanted to do it sooner," he continued, "But I was waitin' on the damn ring to get here."

Irvine looked up at her with the most anguished eyes she'd ever seen on a living being. "I didn't even get to tell her I loved her before…" The words caught in his throat as his body was wracked by more sobs.

For once, Quistis didn't know what to say. She couldn't find the words to comfort the cowboy when she was hurting so much over Selphie's death too. Instead of offering the kind of hollow comfort or "I'm sorries" that others were giving her, she knelt next to Irvine and pulled him into her arms. Finally, she let the tears she'd been holding back during her search for him come out.

Someone had once told her that grief shared is grief halved.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: This chapter was incredibly hard for me to write. Three years ago this October, my best friend August died. Killed in a car accident with an 18-wheeler on spring break. My friend could have been Selphie, if Selphie was a swimmer instead of a mercenary. Many elements of Laguna and Seifer's funeral speeches (which are most of the chapter) are taken from her own funeral. I cried while I wrote this; it revisited a lot of painful memories. That's why it took so long to get put out. I'm not entirely satisfied with all of it, but I'm letting it stand anyway—just like I always do._

_Also, so that all of you know this, Taken has become the sequel to Free As A Bird. The events I introduced at the end of that story (eg: the Galbadian transfer students) are germaine to this story. If you haven't read it, I recommend doing so—it'll make some things make more sense, particularly Seifer and Quistis' relationship._

_Luv to you all! Thanks for sticking with me!_

_Eerian_

**Chapter 2**

They buried Selphie on the grounds of the old orphanage. Nearly everyone from both Balamb and Trabia Gardens had come to the funeral, along with Laguna Loire and Ellone. Laguna presided over the ceremony. Quistis, Rinoa, Squall and Zell acted as the pallbearers. Ellone provided gentle, quiet support to Irvine, who had become too numb to do much of anything.

The wind was gentle over the grass and flowers as the president of Esthar began his speech.

"Dear friends. I don't know many of you, but I'm sure Selphie could have told me all of your names and never been wrong. She was like that, remembering everyone she met. She was the person who would be your friend no matter who or what you were. No one was beneath her caring or her friendship. I am proud to have been able to call her friend, and I'm sure that all of you are too.

"We'll all remember her with fondness and love. But, Selphie would be the first to tell us all, don't stay sad. Instead, she'd tell us to go live our lives the way she did—with a smile and a passion for everything we do.

"Selphie was a bright lively woman. She was taken in by Cid and Edea Kramer after she was orphaned by the first Sorceress War. Despite her tragic youth, she was never less than cheerful and happy during her childhood and schooling. When she was seventeen, she graduated from Balamb Garden into the ranks of SeeD. She helped end the second Sorceress War the year she graduated. Then she returned to Balamb Garden where she instructed students in computers, technology and interpersonal relationships. Without even trying, Selphie went out of her way to foster her light in others.

"Her death was a tragic loss to all the world. She will be sorely missed."

Laguna bowed his head when he finished speaking and stepped back away from the podium. A ripple of surprise went through the crowd when Seifer Almasy stepped up to take his place.

"This wasn't part of the origonal plan," he said. "It would have driven Selphie crazy, because it disrupted all her careful planning. But I didn't think that President Loire's speech did Selphie Tilmitt enough justice. You were all her friends, and you all saw the level of caring she could be capable of, but I saw a different Selphie than most of you.

"We were raised in the same orphanage as children. When we were kids, we never got along. I was alone and angry and didn't want to be with anyone, let alone someone who was so cheerful all the time. When we went to school, she went to Trabia and I went to Balamb and we didn't see each other again for years. After she transferred to Balamb, she drove me nuts again with all that cheerfulness. I thought she was just one of those cheerleader types who could never take anything seriously. Even if she was my age, I thought she was just a kid.

"During the war, I saw a different Selphie. I saw the Selphie who had had her home destroyed, had friends killed and who was trying to keep the entire world from going to hell in a hand basket without really knowing what was going on. I saw the Selphie who was hurt, confused, scared and wanted revenge. And mostly, she wanted it on me, because a lot of what happened to her was my fault.

"But after the war, she came to my room one night during my trial and talked with me. I won't tell you everything, because some of that was in confidence. But I will tell you that she told me that I was forgiven for everything I'd done to her. And she told me that she would help me do whatever it took to make sure I stayed with them.

"And she told me she trusted me. That was the side of Selphie I was privileged to see. The side that believed redemption was possible, and I saw the girl who helped make it happen for me.

"Without Selphie Tilmitt, I probably would have died in prison. She saved me." Seifer stepped away from the podium, tears in his eyes. Quistis pulled him into a hug.

In the quiet that followed his speech, the microphone clipped to his collar picked up the words he whispered to Quistis. "I just can't believe she's gone."

There was a murmur of agreement through the crowd at his statement.

Irvine wept silently into Ellone's shoulder.

* * *

PS: sorry i wasn't much for the area discription or the focusing on the characters thoughts/feelings. i felt more that i needed to invoke emotion in the reader, not play off it using the characters. 


	3. Chapter 3

_huh. while i was writing, i had this big author's note in mind for this chapter. can't remember any of it now. huh. whatever. here's chapter three. enjoy._**

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Chapter 3**

The halls of Balamb Garden were far, far to quiet for Irvine after the funeral. Students still chatted as they walked, but it was subdued—like the spark that had animated them had been put out. Boot heels muted on the polished floors. Even the fountains didn't seem to make as much noise anymore.

And no one seemed to want to talk to him. It was like they thought his depression was a contagious disease or something.

Sometimes, he welcomed the silence. Sometimes, just the presence of another person would remind him too much of Selphie and he'd lose it. Other times, the aloneness, the quiet was too much and he'd comb the halls f the Garden looking for someone—anyone—to talk to.

Sometimes he would have been happy to talk to Ultimecia as long as she didn't leaven him alone in a crowded room.

This was one of those times. One of those moments when he needed something to distract himself from his sorrow.

But, this also seemed like one of those times when he wasn't going to find the distraction he needed. The SeeDs and cadets he assed always found something else to look at, rather than acknowledge him. Right now, shoes seemed to be far more interesting than he was.

_She'd give 'em all a good tongue lashin' for actin' the way they are. Ain't like bein' nice'll kill 'em._ He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. When his fingers tangled in it, he realized that he hadn't brushed it out this morning. Then he wasn't sure if he'd changed his clothes since yesterday, either. _No wonder no one wants to be around me. I look like a bum._

He was distracted from his thoughts by running footsteps. Looking in the direction of the sound, Irvine saw a girl in a cadet's uniform pelting down the hall toward him.

"Thank God," she gasped, sliding to a stop in front of him. "You have to help us!"

His eyes narrowed. This would seem awfully convenient, if the girl didn't look so genuinely panicked. "What's goin' on?"

"The Training Center. There's a monster, and it killed the others! Instructor Dincht is there alone with it." The girl was breathing hard, almost panting for breath. "He told me to get help. Please!"

Irvine was running before he was really aware of it. _If Zell can't handle it alone, don't know what I can do without Exeter and some GFs, but I have to try._

"What's your name," he asked as the girl as they ran toward the Training Center.

"Dara Penbrook."

"Are you junctioned, Dara?"

"Yes, sir!"

"I'm not. I need whatever you've got."

"Then how will I--?"

"You won't," Irvine interrupted. "You're going to go get Commander Leonheart and bring him down there."

"Yes, sir." A moment passed, then Dara said, "My GFs are yours."

Quickly, Irvine drew them off of her and began junctioning. The GFs weren't as experienced as he would have liked, but no one below a second year SeeD was allowed to use the Guardian Forces he and the others had trained during the war. These two inexperienced GFs were also not any he'd worked with before.

He hoped that the lack of compatibility didn't cause more deaths—specifically Zell's and his own.

Dara broke away from him when he took the GFs. He hoped she would be able to find Squall quickly.

Because anything in the Training Center that killed cadets being supervised by Zell Dincht was _trouble._

The doors to the Training Center barely had time to open at his approach before he was sliding through them frantically looking for his friend. He found the martial artist near the Secret Area, fighting the biggest Marlboro he'd ever seen.

And since he and Squall trained regularly on the Island Closest to Hell, that was saying something.

It was also a grayish-purple color, which he knew wasn't right either. But as the creature in haled and blew a blast of Bad Breath at Zell, Irvine decided that he'd worry about it later.

Quickly, he cast Triple on himself; if he was going to have to rely on magic and GFs for this fight, he needed to do it up right. On the heels of that casting, he began summoning one of the GFs he'd gotten from Dara—Golem, who whispered to him that he could protect from both physical attacks and status effects.

Zell noticed he was there a few seconds later, when they were shielded briefly by a giant stone golem as the Guardian Force draped his protection around them.

"Irvine!" The martial artist shouted. "Am I glad to see you!"

"I bet," the sniper replied. "What have you tried on it?"

Zell dodged a flailing tentacle before replying, "Status effects bounce off it like rubber. Fire _heals_ it. Gravity doesn't do anything to it at all."

"Ultima?"

"Don't have any."

Irvine nodded and cast a single Ultima on the Marlboro and watched the effect. The monster screamed in pain and recoiled. Then it countered with another Bad Breath attack.

With the status effects he felt bouncing off Golem's shield, he was intensely glad Dara had been toting the GF.

Zell responded to the attack with a limit break. Irvine followed up his attack with three Ultimas.

The cowboy felt a flair of triumph as the monster screamed its pain. It was short-lived, however, as the Marlboro wrapped a tentacle around his left leg and threw him across the training grounds. He hit a tree and heard something crack. Pain shot hot blades through his back as he hit the ground next to one of Zell's students.

Blackness swam at the edges of Irvine's vision as he struggled back to his feet. He hated to think what the force of that throw would have done to him if Golem hadn't been protecting them.

"Stay with it, Kinneas," he said to himself. "Squall ain't here yet, and Zell still needs you."

Whatever had been broken when he hit the tree was making it hard for him to walk. He cast Curaga on himself a couple of times, hoping to keep the pain at bay.

He staggered back to fight, and prepared to cast three more Ultimas. As he gestured to cast, he realized that his arms weren't working right either.

Nerve damage. Just great.

The Marlboro screamed as his spells hit it and dropped Zell in a heap at its base. Irvine staggered closer and cast a trio of Curagas on the martial artist. Zell leapt to his feet and unleashed another limit break on the creature.

The Marlboro flailed its tentacles at them in response. Zell was hit in the chest and knocked several feet away. Irvine felt one him in the head, and he felt himself blacking out.

The last thing he heard was Rinoa calling his name.


	4. Chapter 4

_its short, yes, and it took me a while to write, but here at last is chapter 4. chapter 5 will be on its way sometime today as well._**

* * *

Chapter 4**

_He was dreaming of Selphie, which he knew couldn't be right. She was warm, wrapped up in his arms and smelling of her vanilla shampoo and his sandalwood soap. She shouldn't have been there, but she felt too good for him to argue._

_He sighed and nuzzled into her hair, feeling content and complete. She sighed in response, and nuzzled her own face into his chest._

_"I love you," Selphie murmured._

_His heart warmed at the words—words he had wanted to hear from her for a long time. He was going to accept them, even if this was just a dream and something that his mind was making up for him. "I love you, too."_

_They lay in silence after that for a while, before the girl asked, "Are you going to keep the house?"_

_"What?" It was a stupid question for his mind to be asking him at a time like this, when all he wanted was to hold the woman he loved for as long as he could._

_She gave him a smile. "Are you going to keep our house, silly? It's a reasonable question; its too big for just one person."_

_"I…don't know. I'll have to think about it."_

_"You should give it to Cid and Edea, if you aren't gonna keep it. She was always saying how she wanted to be closer to all of us again."_

_Something about the way Selphie said that clicked suddenly in his head. "This isn't' a dream, is it?"_

_"Only if you want it to be. It would be easy for you to wake up after the anesthesia wears off and say my being here was just the drugs."_

_"But that wouldn't be the truth." Even as he said the words, he saw her beginning to fade away from him._

_"No. But I was only allowed to be here as long as you were dying. I have to go now."_

_"I love you," he told her again, desperately._

_"I love you, too. I'll see you soon." And then she was gone.

* * *

_

Irvine woke with a start to bright lights and antiseptic air. His mind and heart flailed in sorrow for a moment as he relived his dream.

He was only half successful at choking back the sob that fought its way out of his throat.

"Irvine?"

Sluggishly, the cowboy turned his head toward Quistis' voice.

"Thank God you're all right!" The blond instructor set down the book she had been holding and took up his hand instead. "The doctors thought you might not wake up."

He wanted to blurt out his dream to her, to tell his friend that he had seen his lover, that he'd held Selphie and talked to her. He held back, though, knowing that the ever practical Quistis would chalk up the experience to the drugs he was doubtlessly on. Instead, he managed to ask, "How's Zell?"

Quistis' expression, which had been relieved, turned dark again. "He's in surgery right now, but the doctors aren't holding out much hope for him. His spine was so broken that he'll never walk again, even if he does survive. But he has such severe brain trauma that survival isn't likely."

Irvine knew that Zell hadn't been that badly hurt when he was knocked out, but he also knew that the martial artist wouldn't have backed down from the fight just because Squall showed up. "Zell's strong. He'll make it, just to spite them."

"I hope you're right." Tears threatened to drop over Quistis' eyelashes any moment. "Do you want to hear how you are?"

"Yeah." He didn't, really, but he needed to know.

"You had two cracked vertebrae, four broken ribs, nerve damage in your left hand—probably from your back injury—a severe concussion and a broken nose. Most of it was taken care of pretty quickly, but nerve damage is a tricky thing to heal."

A lot of that was damage he has expected. "Garden can't heal nerve damage. Where are we?"

"Esthar. Doctor Kadowaki insisted that we bring you both here, rather than try to treat you at home. Squall couldn't stay after you were admitted, but Seifer, Rinoa and I are here. And Sis came in from town as soon as she heard."

The cowboy felt warmed inside, knowing that his friends had stayed, even though they had responsibilities at home. "Thanks, Quisty."

She smiled at him, reminding him briefly of Selphie. "You're welcome. You should get some more sleep. I know you were fighting those drugs to keep talking to me."

He gave her a weak smile back, knowing she was right. "All right. You'll wake me if anything changes?"

"Absolutely. And one of us will be here when you wake up."

He allowed his eyes to drift closed, secure in the knowledge that—for a while anyway—he wouldn't be alone.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: a bit longer than chapter four, and heavily edited from the origonal manuscript, but i'm happy with how it came out. chapter six will also be available sometime tonight. yay! warning: there be warm fuzzy moments ahead!!  
_**

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**Chapter 5**

He woke once, to discover that he was alone. Quistis had apparently been wrong about that. He wasn't upset by his aloneness, however—it gave him some time to think. And time to worry.

He thought about Zell, alone in the operating room—or the ICU by now—and could almost feel an ulcer developing in his stomach. The cowboy wasn't at all sure that he could remain sane if Zell died too—especially so close to Selphie.

He knew he was crying as he lay there, but he didn't care. Crying was the only emotional outlet he had left.

"Kinneas? You all right? You need me to get a nurse?"

The sharpshooter looked over at Seifer with eyes that might have been numb with grief if he wasn't feeling so much pain. The blond returned his look with one of concern as he came into the room.

"Only if they've got something for emotional trauma," Irvine finally replied.

"You don't need that shit," the gunblader replied, sitting down in the chair his girlfriend had occupied earlier. "You just need time and people who care. Dincht's out of his second round of surgery. He's holding his own, but the docs still aren't sure he's gonna make it."

"Guess that's better news than you coming in here tellin' me he didn't make it at all. How's everybody else?"

"Tired. They had a hell of a time bustin' that Marlboro up. Then Squall had to write a lot of letters."

"The class didn't make it? Quisty didn't tell me that."

Seifer shrugged. "She probably didn't want to give you anything else to worry about. Doctor Kadowaki said they were probably beyond the point of no return before you got there. The only reason you two survived was because of that GF you were carrying."

Irvine nodded, glad _something_ in the whole affair managed to go right. "Golem. I hadn't even heard of him before the fight."

"I hear he was one of those new GFs that Laguna found in western Esthar last month. I'm damn glad he did." It was the closest Seifer would come to admitting that he'd been afraid his friend would die.

"Me too."

After a brief silence, Seifer added, "You know, Zell and I don't get along, but I hope he makes it."

Neither man could find anything to say after that.

* * *

Zell was in a coma. Four surgeries in as many days had repaired all the damage that it was possible for the doctors to fix. Any remaining injuries would be healed by the martial artist or not at all. 

Irvine was walking—barely—by the fifth day. He insisted on getting up and seeing Zell—and the nurses discovered fairly quickly that nothing short of sedation was going to keep him in bed. Rather than compound the sharpshooter's already considerable emotional trauma, his doctor gave grudging permission for the visit.

He was surprised when Ellone showed up to accompany him on the visit.

The two of them made the short walk upstairs to the ICU in silence. Ellone didn't seem to want to press him for conversation and he was grateful for her silent support.

Zell had a high security privacy room, for which Irvine was grateful when he saw his friend. The martial artist's hair had been completely shaved off to accommodate surgical incisions. All of the pale—almost translucent—skin he could see was criss-crossed by cuts and stitches. His right arm was in a cast and suspended in a sling. A light blanket covered the rest of him to his armpits, hiding the broken ribs and back brace that Quistis had told him were there.

"Quistis reads to him while she's here," Ellone told him softly. "Rinoa sings. His doctor says things like that are good for him."

Irvine nodded and walked slowly to his friend's side. He laid his hand over Zell's mostly uninjured one, careful not to disturb the IV resting there.

"Hey Zell. I'm glad you're still with us. That girl you sent for help saved you, but you know that. She's a brave little thing; you're doing a great job teaching her." The cowboy sat down automatically when Ellone brought a chair over to him. "But you probably don't want to hear about her. I bet you were as worried about me as I was about you.

"I had some broken ribs and cracked vertebrae from hitting the tree. Got some nerve damage from that too. Damn thing gave me a concussion and a broken nose too. My left hand's got some nerve damage—Quisty says its from my back injury. It acts screwy, though, and I'll probably have to learn to re-cast."

"But you can still shoot," Sis reminded him.

"Yeah, I can still shoot. Sis is here too. She and Quisty have been making sure these Estharian doctors take good care of us."

"Excuse me, sir, miss," a nurse interrupted him. "I have to ask you to leave while we change Mister Dincht's bandages."

"All right," Ellone agreed. "Can we come back later?"

"Of course," the nurse replied. "We prefer that the families of coma patients spend as much time with them as possible."

"Thanks," Irvine said, warmed by the fact that the nurse thought they were family. "They're throwing us out, Zell, but we'll be back later." He hesitated briefly—his macho side getting in the way—before adding, "Love you, man."

Ellone smiled as she helped him out of the chair. "Everyone should be told they're loved sometimes."

"I know. And I'm not letting anybody I love go without knowing it anymore."

His back hurt fiercely when the got back to his room, and his doctor and nurse both scolded him for walking and not using a wheelchair. Irvine ignored their chastisement, feeling that the trip had been every bit worth the pain.

The sharpshooter knew he had seen Zell's lips quirk up in a small smile when he's aid he loved him.

The doctor and nurse left quickly after checking him over. Ellone tucked him gently into bed and kissed him on the forehead. "You know, I love you very much. I'm so very glad you're all right."

Irvine smiled, the first one he could remember since Selphie died. "Love you too, Sis."

"Now, get some rest. I'll be back later this afternoon."


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: w00t! the third update in one day, as promised! its short, but it didn't belong at the end of the last chapter or the begining of the next. this fic is finally actually coming out like i want (the damn plotbunny finally came out of hibernation) so hopefully the updates will be less sporadic from now on. chapter 7 is about 1/3 done and should be finished soon._

read, enjoy and don't forget to tell me what you think!  
luffs, eerian**

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**Chapter 6**

The hospital in Esthar discharged Irvine as soon as he was ready to begin physical therapy and they arranged to transfer Zell to Balamb Garden. The Garden, the doctors said, was properly equipped to handle both Zell's coma and Irvine's therapy, and Irvine got the distinct impression that a large portion of the staff would be glad to have the mercenaries constant presence gone.

Irvine was glad to be out of the place. His doctors and nurses—as well as Zell's—had been kind and good at their work, but a week and a half in the sterile, and occasionally hostile, environment was enough to make him crazy. He felt free as he boarded the medical transport bound for the Esthar Air Station.

For some reason, Laguna Loire had insisted on escorting them to the station as well. He had simply shown up in his room as Irvine was pulling on his duster and said he was going with them. The cowboy hadn't argued with Squall's father, but he did wonder why he was there—Laguna had been Selphie's friend, not his.

Seeing Squall waiting for them at the boarding gate made his heart give a twinge—he and the commander were the only pilots the Garden had for the Ragnarok now. It was a painful realization, which led to other painful thoughts of Selphie.

"Are you all right?" Laguna asked, noticing the sudden tears running down the cowboy's face.

"Just thinking about Selphie."

The sharpshooter was a little surprised when the president put a comforting arm around his shoulders. "I still cry for Raine sometimes," he admitted. "But it does get better."

Irvine nodded.

"If you ever need to talk about it, I'm here," Laguna added. "I've been there."

"Thanks." He would have said more, but he couldn't speak without breaking down in front of the entire terminal.

Squall supervised the transfer to the airship's small medical bay while his father comforted the cowboy. When that was finished, he walked over to join them.

"So, can you tell me what this was all about, Laguna?" Irvine couldn't help but notice that Squall still couldn't call the president "Dad."

Laguna nodded. "Let's go inside, where its more private."

Irvine was confused as the three of them boarded the ship. They all sat in the passenger cabin where they had once discussed battle plans for defeating Ultimecia.

Laguna took a deep breath before plunging into the reason he had insisted on coming to the Ragnarok. "The technicians I sent to help you repair the ship after the "accident" brought back a disturbing report—one they didn't think to give to you themselves, for some reason."

Irvine exchanged a dark look with Squall as the president paused. The sinking feeling in his own stomach was mirrored in the commander's eyes.

"What are you saying, Laguna?" Squall asked.

"My team found evidence of extensive tampering with the cockpit consoles. There were explosives planed in the main control panel." The Galbadian swallowed hard before finishing. "Squall, Irvine, the explosion wasn't an accident. Selphie was murdered."

Irvine felt like he was going to be sick. Somehow, knowing that it had been foul play just made Selphie's death that much worse. "Oh, God…"

Squall's father put a comforting hand on the sharpshooter's knee. "I'm sorry to break it to you like that."

"No. it needed sayin' now, so that Squall could start an investigation." Irvine stood up. "I think I need to be alone for a while."

Squall and Laguna watched with almost identical expressions of sadness as the cowboy left the room.


	7. Chapter 7

_i'm not even going to tell you how long this has been finished. real life intruded on things and i honestly forgot about it. my bad, so sorry. but here is chapter seven, which i know several of my readers have been anxiously waiting for. to make up for the wait, chapter 8 should be finished, edited and posted by 2000 this evening._**

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**Chapter 7**

_Selphie was murdered. Murdered. Deliberately killed by someone outside the battlefield._

When her death had been just an accident, it had somehow been easier to deal with. She was gone, and it hurt like hell, but bad things happen sometimes. He was still healing, but he had delt with that much of it.

And now, knowing that someone had _deliberately killed her_ was unhealing his emotional wound. Knowing that someone had deliberately inflicted that wound on Garden—on him—magnified his grief and added rage to the mix.

The feeling that he was going to be sick intensified and he found himself retching into the toilet in the head. Irvine was suddenly glad that he hadn't eaten much that morning at the hospital.

"You okay?" Squall's voice was both concerned and supportive.

The cowboy turned to look at his commander, surprised by the show of caring from the other man. "I don't really know. It's a lot to take in."

Squall nodded. "Yeah. You're taking it better than I would."

Irvine made a noise of assent. "I got nobody to kill right now. Believe me, when there's a solid target, I'll be there."

"I know. Laguna wants to talk to you, when you feel up to it."

"Ask him to give me some time. I'm still gettin' it all straight in my head." The sharpshooter stood up and flushed the toilet. "I need time to think and calm down."

Squall nodded and left him to his thoughts.

Irvine sat next to Zell's bed for a long while after his conversation with Squall. He was heartbroken about Selphie and worried about Zell. Two tragedies happening to the Orphanage Gang in such a short time was playing hell with his emotions—and everyone else's too, he suspected.

Two tragedies. Two things that could not have been simply accidents—Laguna confirmed sabotage of the Ragnarok and no one would have put a monster like that Marlboro in the training center. Two deliberate attacks against Balamb Garden in only a few weeks time.

_This is not a coincidence. Shit. Somebody's out to get us._

He looked down at the beaten, bruised and stitched up body of his comatose friend. _Someone was meant to die in each of these attacks. And I think it was meant to be us. Those kids were just collateral damage._

_Dammit!_

Irvine reached out and carefully placed a hand on Zell's shoulder. "I will find who did this."

With that, he rose from his chair and began making his way up to the cockpit. If Squall hadn't come to this conclusion on his own already, then he needed to know.

* * *

"I think the Marlboro was connected," Irvine announced as he entered the cockpit. 

Squall and Laguna both looked at the sharpshooter in surprise.

"What Marlboro?" Laguna asked.

"The one that attacked Zell's class, Dad." Squall looked surprised at himself as the statement came out of his mouth.

Laguna looked completely shocked. "You called me Dad!"

The Balamb commander put a hand over his eyes. "It just slipped out, Laguna."

"Its okay, Squall. It didn't hurt you." The president gave his son a smile.

Squall steered the conversation back to its origonal subject. "You think the Marlboro is connected, Irvine. What makes you think that?"

"It makes sense," Irvine told them. "If you think about it, you'll realize that they couldn't have known exactly who was going to service the Ragnarok or who was going to be in the training center. Any qualified engineer could have been on the airship and over thirty classes use the training room a week. It makes sense if you think that whoever is doing this is targeting the Garden in general and not specific people."

"Why would someone target Garden?" Squall's expression said that he was taking Irvine's theory seriously.

"I'm not sure 'bout that yet. I think we need to get in touch with the other gardens to see if anything similar has happened to them."

Squall nodded. "Good idea. We'll get on that when we get home."

Irvine nodded. "I'm gonna go lay down 'til we get there, then."

"Sure." The commander felt bad for a moment, having forgotten his friend's injury in the light of the cowboy's theory.

Irvine turned and left the cockpit as abruptly as he had entered.

"Are you sure he's not just grasping at straws?" Laguna asked after the other man left.

Squall looked sharply at his father. "Irvine's not the type. He wouldn't just throw out theories to make himself feel better."

"Look, son, I'm not the kind of guy that does that either, but losing the love of your life like he did changes a person. I know that you trust him, but some things have to be taken with a grain of salt."

"People have got to stop taking things with a grain of salt around him, Dad." Neither man bothered to acknowledge that Squall had just admitted that Laguna was his father again. "I'm sure your friends would tell us how hard it is being around someone who's grieving like that, but its killing him that people won't have anything to do with him anymore. And those of us who are closest to him just don't have time. I'm going to follow up on this—because I think he's right and because he needs someone to take him seriously right now."

Laguna blinked. That was probably the longest statement his son had ever made to him. "I guess I have to trust your judgment then, Commander."

Squall gave the older man a small smile. "With respect, Mister President, you're the one who told me my airship had been sabotaged."

The Galbadian soldier-turned-president nodded, allowing his son to return to the problem at hand. "Do you have any ideas about who might have done it?"

The Balamb Lion sighed. "A hundred possibilities, but no one who could have snuck into the hanger to do it. We won't know anything until we pull the security recordings."

Laguna nodded, contenting himself with that answer. "How's Rinoa?"

Squall shook his head at Laguna's unabashed change of topic. "She's fine. And yes, we're still getting married this winter."


	8. Chapter 8

_wow. this got long. i actually felt like it was dragging out more than i meant, so i stopped early too. next chapter will advance the plot a little more, but i wanted a bit of Dara/Irvine interaction before that point, since she's going to start being a larger player. (no, not a love interest. irvine doesn't need one of those--selphie just died after all.) _**

* * *

**

**Chapter 8**

Balamb Garden didn't feel different, Irvine realized as he disembarked from the Ragnarok. It was still the same campus he'd come to love since he had transferred there after the war. It was still vibrant and welcoming with its fountains and flowers.

It was still completely lifeless without Selphie.

For a moment, the cowboy wished that they had driven a car instead of flying; he would have been prepared for this kind of lifeless feeling from the parking garage. Then the moment passed as he realized how unpractical that would have been, even if someone could have driven a car from Balamb to Esthar, and he resigned himself to facing the lifeless school all the time.

Doctor Kadowaki met them on the landing field with several attendants. She smiled warmly at Irvine as she caught sight of him. "Its good to see that you're all right, Irvine. I was so worried about you that I had Quistis calling me every day with an update until you started your physical therapy."

Irvine found himself feeling strangely touched by her words. "Thanks. That means a lot."

"How are you?" He got the feeling that she didn't just mean his injuries.

"I'm all right. Much as can be expected, anyway."

The doctor nodded as if she understood exactly what he meant. "I want you to stop by my office later so we can set up your therapy schedule."

He nodded. The doctor patted him carefully on the shoulder, then gestured for the attendants to follow her onto the airship so they could offload Zell. He watched them board, then watched the empty ramp, thinking about how wrong it was that the hyperactive martial artist would forever be confined to a bed or a motorized chair.

Assuming he ever woke up.

He blinked as Squall and Laguna came to the head of the ramp. He hadn't realized that the Estharian president had come all the way to Balamb with them.

"C'mon, Irvine. Squall says that everybody's waiting for you inside." Laguna's smile was bright and genuine. For the first time in weeks, Irvine felt the life in something again.

The cowboy found himself smiling back as the older man put an arm around his shoulders, infected by Laguna's charm. "I hope you didn't just ruin some big surprise party, Laguna."

"No," Squall said, coming down to join them at the base of the ramp and shooting his father a glare. "Just a small one."

"Squall, I don't think I'm up to a party," Irvine said hesitantly. He had done so much pacing on the ship that his back and legs felt like the aftermath of one of his physical therapy sessions. "I think I just want to go home and lay down."

Laguna was oblivious to his protests. "Nope. Your friends planned this for days. You have to go."

The sharpshooter looked desperately to Squall for help. But the Commander's stern expression said that he wouldn't be getting out of this one easily. With a reluctant sigh, he let the President steer him inside the garden.

Quistis was waiting for them with a wheelchair just inside the front gate. She gave the three men a smile before giving Irvine a kiss on the cheek. "Welcome home."

The cowboy was surprised to find a blush creeping into his cheeks from his friend's innocent peck. "Thanks."

"I wasn't sure you would be up to walking all the way to the quad," Quistis said, either ignoring or not noticing his blush, "So I brought the chair."

"You're a lifesaver, darlin'." Irvine eased himself into the wheelchair with a relieved sigh. "I was up too much on the ship; feels like my legs are gonna fall off."

She gave him a look that was both bemused and reproachful. "You're supposed to be taking it easy. No more of that; stop when it hurts."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied.

"And you two." She pinned Squall and Laguna with her best angry teacher glare. "You should have been keeping an eye on him and making sure he took care of himself."

Father and son looked appropriately contrite at her words.

"Now," she said, "Let's get to the party before everyone else gets bored and eats all the food."

The party was a bit larger than Irvine had anticipated, but it was still fairly small and intimate. He'd known all his friends would be there, but he hadn't expected to see Angel, the quiet library girl that Zell had dated for a while, or Dara Penbrook.

The girl looked fantastic in her obviously still-new SeeD uniform.

There was some light music playing in the background. It was something that Rinoa had likely chosen, because it wasn't anywhere close to the kind of music that he, Seifer or Quistis listened to. It was nice, but he'd have to put something harder on when he got back home.

Irvine's heart gave a brief pang at the thought of going back to his empty home. He remembered Selphie's question, and wondered what he was going to do with their huge house; he knew he would never be able to live there again. There were simply too many ghosts there for him now.

"Where do you want to sit?" Quistis interrupted his thinking by asking.

The cowboy gave her a tiny smile, grateful for the distraction. "Wherever's fine. But please tell me that you didn't pick the music."

The blond instructor gave a sigh. "No, that was Rinoa. I love her, but her taste in music is awful."

"I heard that," Rinoa shouted to them, sticking out her tongue.

Quistis parked the wheelchair near the refreshment table, which Irvine was grateful for. He'd learned to use a wheelchair at the hospital, but he hadn't developed the proper muscles for it and his arms always felt terrible after wheeling himself around for even a short amount of time.

From his vantage point near the food and punch, Irvine could observe everyone else in the room. Angel was talking quietly to Rinoa near the door, looking ready to bolt at any moment. Squall interrupted their conversation briefly with whispered words to the Sorceress, then left the room. Laguna filled a glass of punch, then started talking with Seifer and Quistis. Dara stood by herself near the other end of the table, looking both uncomfortable and intimidated.

The sharpshooter listened to their conversation for a little while, but his mind kept drifting between wondering what he was going to do with the house and why Dara was at the party. One of his quandaries would be solved easily enough.

Dara jumped in surprise when he wheeled himself up next to her. Irvine chuckled and gave her a grin. "I'm not that scary am I?"

"You just startled me, sir," she replied. "I really wasn't expecting to have anyone talk to me."

"Why wouldn't they? You got invited to the party didn't you?"

Dara was quiet for a long moment. "But I'm not one of you."

"You look like a SeeD to me," Irvine assured her.

She shook her head. "That's not what I meant. You guys are special. You saved the world. I'm nowhere near important enough to be with any of you."

"If that were true, do you really think that Squall would have put you in that uniform?" His tone was serious; he hated to hear people talk down about themselves like that.

Dara said nothing, and looked down at the floor.

"The next time you think that you're not good enough to be seen with us," Irvine continued, "Remember that you were in the training center when that Marlboro attacked and that you walked away without a scratch."

The girl looked at him in shock for a moment, then a bright smile blossomed across her face. "You're right, sir. Thank you."

"And no more of that "sir" stuff. I'm not old enough for that."


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: good dear gods. its been forever since i managed to update this. i'm sorry for that. the plotbunny just got out shouted by all the others running through my head and this got back burnered._

_but here you have chapter nine. which has some dialogue and advances The Plot, but doesn't do much else. i don't really like it and its tons of filler, but its needed filler._

**

* * *

****Chapter 9**

"Commander Leonheart asked if I thought you were ready to return to active duty this morning," Doctor Ambrose, the Garden's psychologist, said as Irvine took his chair across from her.

"What did you tell him?"

"That its been six weeks, and I don't see why you can't handle it. Obviously I can't clear you completely because of your recent injury, but from a psychological standpoint, the only thing keeping you from working would be yourself."

Irvine nodded. He'd been going crazy with boredom for the last two weeks. "Sounds good to me, then. Does that mean no more counseling appointments when I go back?"

"Well, I'd prefer to continue seeing you, Irvine. Even after six weeks, your depression still isn't lifting. I think there may be the beginning of a real problem here."

"A real problem." The sharpshooter repeated. "Like what? Being depressed because I keep waking up alone in a bed that I should be sharing? Insomnia because every time I go to sleep I see the consol exploding again or having her die in my arms? Being bummed because all my friends are too busy to spend time with me and get my mind off it all? How could that ever _not_ have been a problem, doc?"

Ambrose was taken aback by the sudden anger in Irvine's tone. "That's not what I meant. I think that—"

"No." Irvine shook his head and stood. "I know you're doing your job, and you helped a lot, but I have to do the rest on my own. I need to be out there working and socializing, not seeing a therapist and taking drugs."

"Irvine…"

"No. Thanks for your help, but we're finished now." He stood back up and walked out of Doctor Ambrose's office feeling relieved. He hadn't liked going to grief counseling in the first place, but Garden regulations demanded a minimum of six weeks after a loss like his.

Feeling better than he had in several days, Irvine left the medical wing and headed for Squall's office. If his friend was asking the doctors after his health and not himself, then Squall probably had something planned for him. Getting out of the damn Garden sounded pretty good to Irvine right now.

He was whistling by the time he stepped off the elevator and into the secretary's office, surprised at how good finally having something to do was making him feel. Squall's secretary gave him a bright smile.

"Glad you're feeling better today, Mister Kinneas."

"Squall's fault," the cowboy replied with a grin. "Is he busy?"

"Let me see." The secretary pushed a button on her intercom. "Mister Kinneas wants to know if you're busy, Commander."

"_Send him in," _Squall replied through the speaker.

"Thanks, darlin'," Irvine replied walking to Squall's door.

He was a little surprised to see Dara Penbrook standing in front of the Commander's desk.

"That was good timing, Irvine," Squall said as he entered the office. "I was about to send someone down to Doctor Ambrose's office to pull you up here. I hope nothing's wrong."

"Nope." The cowboy shook his head, falling into "officer" mode. "We wrapped everything up early."

"Good." Squall leaned back in his chair and looked at both Irvine and Dara. "Since Doctor Kadowaki agrees with Doctor Ambrose's opinion and has also cleared you to return to active duty, I have an assignment for the two of you."

Irvine felt his good mood fall away instantly. "You think I'm ready for that already?"

Squall shook his head, already knowing what his friend meant. "Not a mission. Not when you can't cast yet. You're going to give each other special training."

"What?" Irvine had no idea what Squall was planning. Dara stayed silent.

"You're going to teach her to shoot and she's going to help you learn to cast again."

Irvine exchanged a look with Dara that said they thought Squall had gone crazy.

"Commander," Dara said hesitantly, "My specialty isn't in magic and my aptitude for firearms tested well below average."

"My aptitude for the gunblade was point zero one," the Commander replied. "Everyone said I had no business so much as looking at one, let alone learning to use one. Saying you have no aptitude is just another way of saying you don't want to learn."

"Yes, sir." The girl—which is what she still was, despite her rank—looked down at her feet for a moment, then back up at Squall. "But that doesn't explain why you want me to help Irvine learn to cast again. I don't know how to teach anyone how to do anything and I'm really not very good with magic. Instructor Trepe says that I'm better off sticking with long range attacks and guerilla tactics."

"On a first name basis already?" Squall gave the SeeDs in front of him a long look.

"Its not like that and you know it," Irvine hissed at him, more than a little hurt. "Dara's been spending a lot of time with me when I go to see Zell. Sometimes we hang out afterward."

"Then it won't seem unusual for her to have decided to help you relearn the skills you lost in the attack." The Commander let that statement hang in the air, and everything fell into place for the sharpshooter.

"We'll train in the forest, Squall. At least for the magic; wouldn't want anybody to accidentally get caught by a stray spell."

Dara's face was flushed with frustration and anger when she turned to the cowboy. "You can't just arbitrarily recruit me for this! I have as much right to question assignments I don't agree with as anyone else in this Garden!"

"Let it go, darlin'. It's a petty thing to argue about, and the Commander has his reasons." Irvine put a hand on the younger girl's shoulder. "Besides, Quisty may have the patience to help me, but she doesn't have the time."

"You accept your assignment then, SeeD Kinneas?" Squall asked.

"Yeah."

"And you, SeeD Penbrook?"

She shot Irvine a dark look; he'd be doing a lot of explaining later. "I accept, Commander."

The Commander looked relieved. "Thank you."

-------

"You want to tell me what that was all about in there?" Dara asked him as the elevator started moving down.

"Not yet," Irvine replied. "I'm not sure its safe to say yet."

"But you'll tell me when it is?"

"Yes."

She was silent for a moment. "I think I'm scared, Irvine. And I don't know why."

"I'm scared too, darlin'. And I do know why." _But what does Squall know that I don't. we've got sixty SeeDs trained as marksmen; why Dara right now?_

"And then he invites us over for dinner?"

"Its his way of saying he trusts you. Squall doesn't do that with just anybody."

"The commander is a very private person."

Irvine laughed. "Private is one way to put it. Doc Ambrose would probably say he has abandonment issues."

"Does he?" Dara seemed genuinely interested, as if she wanted the knowledge so she could finally _know_ something, even if it was trivial.

"Some. But its not my place to tell you why. If Squall wants you to know, he'll tell you." The elevator stopped at the first floor and they stepped out. "Be happy that he's letting you inside at all."

"I'll try."


End file.
